


I'll take you home

by Krissy



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Basically Louis getting his shit together, Finally, Gen, a bit angsty, and being a good brother for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 07:32:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11054262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissy/pseuds/Krissy
Summary: The two brothers of Versailles are on a horse ride in the forest, when a downbreaking thunderstorm interrupts their non-existent chatter. A following accidents leads to them spending some time alone and the king finally talking with his brother...





	I'll take you home

**Author's Note:**

> Hey :)
> 
> This is my first Versailles fanfic AND first fanfic I've ever written/translated in English, so please excuse any mistakes and feel free to correct them! :3

"It looks like rain. We should go back."

Louis turned to his brother who looked up at the sky. It was getting cloudier, a storm was coming, he could see black clouds forming on the grey horizon. Soon it would start raining and before that happened, he wanted to be back in the warmth of his palace. He turned his horse and his companion followed him. Louis could feel his gaze on him. 

"A shame. It was sunny, when we left."

Louis remained silent and simply nodded,  
drifted his horse. He still wondered why Philippe even agreed to his offer to go riding with him. Maybe he has missed him after all. Or his freedom of being alone with him, somewhere in the woods. But it seemed like the weather had something against them. 

"We should-" A loud thunder cut him off, he fell silent and looked up, the first raindrops started to fall on his face.

"Hurry?", his brother continued, got his horse to walk faster. It surprised him that he was still smiling, the rain already drenched his coat and hair, he lowered his gaze, nodded and kept his horse close to his brothers. 

Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound, startled Louis grabbed the reins, looked up. A tree in front of them was hit by a lighting and caught fire, the old wood cracked and with a deafening sound it crashed in front of them.

Louis held onto the reins and leaned forward, petting his horses neck to calm him, even though his own heart was beating erratically in his chest.

"Shh... Marius..."

His horse neighed, but remained calm, slowly stopping. Philippe was not that lucky. His black stallion let out a terrified scream and reared, he slipped from his saddle and fell to the ground. 

"Hey!", Louis shouted, but it galloped into the woods and disappeared between the trees. Who trained this horse?, he asked himself irritated, swore to let it get shot, if it even came back. Meantime he was ice cold and all he wanted was to be back home, sit in front of his fireplace and get warm again. Well, maybe he could do that last part otherwise...

"Brother, get up. We'll find another way."

The king turned his horse, only to find, after a few quiet seconds, in which he heard nothing except the crackling of the fire, that his brother had not moved one bit.  
He rolled his eyes and turned in his saddle. 

"Are you coming, then?"

He could see him, Philippe was lying on the ground between the branches in the snow with his back to him. He held back an annoyed sigh.

"Don't fool around, come here."

He didn't even move. Slowly anger started to grow in him. Why did he agree to this ride again? What did he even expect of it? It never had any kind of sense. And he could spend his time doing more important things.

"Brother...", Louis scolded him again, getting more and more impatient.  
Nothing. He frowned. Was there really something wrong with him? He let go of the reins, got off his horse and took some hurried steps in his direction. 

"Philippe?" 

With one last step he stood in front of him, sank to his knees and hesitantly touched his shoulder. His eyes were closed, Louis turned him around and put his hand to his cheek.

"Philippe...", he murmured again, shook him urgently. He looked unconscious, did he hit his head? In vain Louis looked around for help. He asked to be left alone with his brother, there would be no one that followed him. But now he felt regret at this decision. Then, who was he when he couldn't even take care of his own brother?

Philippe frowned, then slowly blinking opened his eyes. He couldn't help to feel somewhat relieved, leaned over him.

"Philippe, can you hear me?" 

He tried to ignore the cold rain that wet all of his clothing and hair. Surely he was going to catch a cold.

"Louis... What happened...?", his brother asked faintly, his voice weak and confused.  
He tried to get up, a painful expression on his face, he carefully touched his right shoulder. Louis helped him to sit upright, he leaned against him for support, could hear his quiet strained breathing.

"You fell off your horse. How are you feeling?" 

Philippe slowly shook his head, lowered his gaze. 

"I... my shoulder hurts and my head...  
Where is my horse?"

"Gone." 

Just then the king noticed the wound on his head, the blood ran down the side of his cheek and for the first time, he felt deeply concerned. His brother needed a doctor. 

"We have to get back home." 

He got up and held out his hand for him. Philippe slowly took it and he pulled him to his feet. He held his shoulder, groaned as he had to move it.  
Hopefully he didn't break anything. 

"Pull yourself together", he simply ordered, getting tired of the cold and wetness and turned to his horse. In addition, it was already getting dark and the smoke started to burn in his throat. His brother held onto him, he raised his eyebrows questioningly, pointed impatiently towards the saddle. 

"It is getting dark, I am freezing-"

"Louis, I can't-"

"What?" He turned to him, tried to ignore the concern and helplessness that started to rise in him, looked at him reproachfully. 

"Didn't I say pull yourself together?"

His blue eyes looked at him tired and more next to him than in his own, Louis grabbed him by the shoulders. Philippe winced as he touched his shoulder, closed his eyes and breathed in, slowly and visibly in pain. Intentionally more careful he grabbed his arm and helped him to his horse. His brothers gaze stayed on him and he swayed slightly.  
Louis wondered if he was in some kind of shock or if it was because of his injury.

"Get up."

He hesitated, Louis oppressed a sigh, got on his horse first and helped him up, felt his brother got up behind him.

"Hold onto me. Philippe?" 

Louis turned his head, saw him nodding out of the corner of his eye and shortly after felt his hands on his hips, grabbing into his shirt. Then his head that he leaned against his back. He gritted his teeth and accelerated his horse. The rain was growing more violently, the storm raging right over them. He heard his brothers strained breathing behind him, the sound of the wind between the trees and the trampling of the hooves on the wet forest floor.

"Louis ...", he heard him after a short time later, noticed how exhausted his voice sounded. Hopefully he would not faint again, Louis slowed his ride a little, looked around. They were still in the middle of the forest and he did not know which direction was right, it was too dark now to recognize the way.

"Philippe? Do you know where we are?"

"No...", was all he said, his voice quiet and Louis doubted that he had even looked around. He wiped a wet strand of hair from his face, finally discovered a kind of hut on the edge of the road. He instructed his horse to step closer. It was more of a shelter made of planks than a hut, but perhaps it would provide protection from the storm for a while. And maybe he could look after his brother there, he seemed to be getting weaker.

Louis turned to him and held him, trying not to touch his injured shoulder.  
He helped him off his horse and towards the hutch, pushed open the door with his foot. Surprisingly it was not rotten or decayed and even the rain  
did not come through. 

"Sit down ... ", he muttered, helping him to an old fur, which was laying in the corner, then went back outside to tie Marius. The hut was too small and low, otherwise he would take him with him inside. His brother took a seat, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes, breathing softly. Louis hesitated for a moment, before he sat down in front of him, looking at him anxiously. The blood running down his cheek had dried, but his wound seemed like it was still bleeding. He held his right arm, his shoulders hung down, his wet hair stuck to his face, but he did not seem to notice it. He bit his lip. In pain?

"Philippe, look at me."

The other sighed, raising his weary gaze. Louis looked at him, no longer trying to hide his worry. He was not the king now, he was his brother. He quickly took off his coat, took his cloth, which had been tied around his neck before, and was still a little dry, and pressed it carefully on the wound. He twitched slightly, squinting his eyes.

"We ride back as soon as the storm is over", he muttered, dabbing the blood carefully. Philippes blue eyes watched him, he tried to ignore it, gently wiping the blood from his cheek.

"And I'll let a doctor come ..."

He only snorted, tore the cloth from his hand and adverted his gaze. Louis leaned back, crossed his arms with reproach. He did not believe he was worried. Of course.

"You're just glad nothing happened to you," he began, throwing his scarf aside and glared at him bitterly. Louis looked back unimpressed.

"Otherwise, I would be the one who was with the king, when something happened to him, and how would that make me look?"

Louis just shook his head, what was he talking about?

"Do not talk like that", he mumbled, the younger one finally stopped, hesitantly touched his temple.

"What about your shoulder?" He asked softly, Philippe touched it slowly, cleared his throat.

"It hurts pretty much."

"Is something broken?"

He nodded slightly. "I think so... I can hardly move my arm."

Louis suppressed a sigh, took the cloth back, and moved closer to him. He had the urge to free himself from the wet clothes, to dry himself and warm up, but then he would be even colder. He looked around, could not see much in the dark. The hut seemed to consist only of this little sleep-corner and a broken cupboard. A door stood slightly open, it seemed empty.  
He looked back at his brother, who had closed his eyes again, holding his right arm close to his body, slightly trembling. He had to be cold too.

Louis moved closer to him, beginning to wrap the cloth carefully around his shoulder, so that he could put his arm through it. He knotted it tightly, took hold of his arm and slowly pulled it through, trying not to hurt him. But the younger one bit his lip, breathed in sharply.

"Forgive me...", he murmured, and his brother looked up.

"What?"

He frowned, raised his eyebrows questioningly when he actually saw a slight smile on his lips.

"What is it?", he asked irritably, Philippe just shook his head, then paused when he realized that it hurt too much.

"You never apologize to me."

He blinked, confused. What did he mean? Never apologize to him? Was that true?

"I certainly do, brother ..."

Philippe just looked at him, then sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes. Louis took his seat beside him. From outside he still heard the rustle of the wind, it whistled through the gaps between the boards, occasionally it thundered or a lightning lit up the room for a short time. The rain pounded on the roof, and a few drops fell to the ground beside him, he prayed it would hold tight.

He looked at his brother, he seemed paler than usual, still trembling, no wonder in the wet clothes, but without them they would probably freeze both. But at least the wound on his head had stopped bleeding and he had managed to ease his pain a little.

"Louis ...", he murmured, without opening his eyes. "Thank you."

"For what?" He slid closer to him, seeking the only warmth he could somehow find.

"For being my brother and not the king."

He had to smile, put his hand on his arm.

"I am always your brother, Philippe, you know that."

"I know ...", he said after a brief hesitation, nodded slightly. "I know."

Louis did not know how to interpret his voice. He sounded resigned, if not sad, maybe he was just dead tired and exhausted. It was not easy, he knew that himself. It was anything but that. But that did not change his love for his brother, the only one who still remained and mattered to him from his family.

"Better you lie down," he interrupted his own thoughts, moved aside to make room for him. Philippe followed his instructions without a word, closed his eyes again. Louis reached for his cloak, which he had taken off, and which was now a bit drier, and laid it carefully over him. Should at least be a bit warmer. He did not react, just turned his head slightly in his direction. It did not take long and his breathing became calm and even, he had fallen asleep.  
He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, Louis wondered, whether he looked that way. Certainly not, with his many nightmares. At least his brother was spared. Or was he? Lately, he had often looked a bit tired and unhappy. It had to be because of the war, he should never have sent him there. Suddenly he remembered what Philippe had told him about the soldier who had carried his own brother on his back because he had promised their mother to take him back home. His brother had doubted that he would do the same for him. Louis sighed softly, carefully drawing a strand of hair from his face, leaning forward.

"Do not worry ...", he whispered.  
"I'll take you home."  
___

Louis woke up the next morning,  
immediately noticed that the rain had stopped, the sun was rising. He heard the birds outside chirping, the light shining through the planks, but he felt ice cold. His clothes felt stiff and cold, his mouth dry and his hair filthy and still wet. He sat up slowly, apparently just fell asleep still sitting, his neck was painfully tense. His eyes fell on his brother, he seemed to be still asleep.  
How late was is? How long had they been gone? Surely he was already missing, they had to be back as soon as possible. 

Carefully he put his hand on his brothers arm, gently shook him, trying not to hurt him. 

"Philippe?"

He moved his head slightly, his eyes fluttered, then he looked at him, blinking tiredly. 

"How are you feeling?"

Philippe looked down at himself, frowned as he saw his coat, pushed it off him hesitantly, and straightened himself up. He tried not to move his shoulder, leaned against the wall, Louis watched him pitiful. 

"Not very well, it still hurts."

His gaze wandered back to his coat, he grabbed it and handed it slowly to him .

"Here, you must be cold."

"You're freezing, and you're hurt, keep it", he told him, then turned away and got up, pushed the door open. It stopped raining indeed, but the storm had caused a lot of chaos; there were fallen trees and branches everywhere, his horse stood up and trotted to him, thrust his snout softly against his shoulder. Relieved that nothing had happened to him, he stroked his neck and breathed in deeply.

"Forgive me for leaving you outside."

A crack behind him between the bushes and trees, let him spin around, he frowned, trying to spot something. Surely just a bunny ... He stepped back into the hut, back to Philippe, who was still sitting there, just about to get up, he hurried to him, held out his hand.

"Wait...", he began, his brother already reached for his hand and stumbled into his arms. "I got you..."

He heard him sigh, felt his hand cling to his shirt sleeve, and put his arm around him.

"Fuck...", he murmured slightly out of breath, closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. 

"Are you dizzy?" He asked softly, looking at the younger one worried.  
He nodded slightly, Louis made a decision. He had to take his brother home as quickly as possible, into the hands of his doctor, into the warm, before it got worse.

He helped him walk, pushed open the door, and helped him to his horse. His breathing became more strained again, he pressed his arm to himself, held onto Marius's saddle. Louis could not remember ever seeing him like that, even after the war or as children.  
It must be really bad, if he was not even trying to hide it anymore. And out here, if it was just the two of them, he really did not know what to do to help him. He could only hope he would not lose his consciousness again. And here alone, he could not help but worry about his brother.

He let go of him slowly and got up on his horse, handing him his hand. Philippe hesitated before he took it, tried to get up. He clasped his hand tightly and pulled him up, biting his teeth, he was not the lightest, even though he was only a few inches taller than the king himself. 

Louis grabbed for the reins, felt his brother close to him, putting his arm tightly around him, his hand holding onto his shirt again.

"Fine?"

He was silent, Louis felt his grip tighten, his head which he leaned against his back like yesterday.

"Philippe?"

He still said nothing, probably because he was too exhausted, Louis tried to turn and look at him. He had closed his eyes, biting his lower lip tightly; he had to feel so much pain if he actually had broken something. And he was hardly of any help.

He took hold of the reins, and pulled them, his horse began to trot slowly. It took him quite a while to reach a part of the forest, which seemed familiar to him, he gave a relieved sigh, touched Philippe's hand.

"We're almost there..."

He noticed the younger one straighten himself, looking around. Good, he had feared he was already no longer conscious. 

At that moment his horse slowed down, neighed and came to halt, refused to continue walking. Louis frowned, pulled at the reins, but his horse only trotted uneasy on the spot. What was going on? Had it been hurt at the storm after all? Damn, he could not afford to mess around now. He leaned forward, stroking his neck urgently.

"Marius, come, go on ..."

He actually walked a few steps forward, then buckled. His brother clung to him and gasped, Louis grabbed the reins tightly, but his stallion caught himself and straightened.

"Forward," he commanded impatiently, ignoring his beating heart, but Marius did not move. With desperation, he pulled at the reins, his horse neighed loudly and refused to go even one step further. He felt Philippe's hand on his shoulder, turned around.

"He's hurt...", he mumbled, pointing to his front shackles. Louis leaned forward and looked at his leg. In fact, he had a wound, but he could not say whether he had been scratched or got stuck somewhere. But apparently he could not run, not with both of them on his back. It was too heavy, too painful for him. What should he do? He could not ask Philippe to get off and walk, not if he was feeling so bad. He bit his lip, made a decision.

"Philippe: Take the reins."

He pushed them in his hand, before the younger could say something and jumped off the horse. 

"Louis, what...?"

He stepped forward, soothingly stroking his horses neck. 

"It's better like this, is it not? Come on..."

He grabbed his halter and he actually made some slow small steps. Relief washed over him, he would make it home, even if he had to walk. He glanced at his brother, who looked at him confused and tried a smile which only resulted in him looking more irritated than before. He held back a sigh and pointed his gaze forward.  
He probably never expected that he would do something like this. 

Some time passed before they reached the end of the forest. He was freezing, his fingers felt numb, just like his feet, his boots were soaked and he wanted nothing more to be home at last.  
In the distance he could see the edge of his garden and sighed. Finally. He was about to freeze and his brother didn't look like he could stay upright on his horse for much longer. 

"W-We're almost there..."

He looked up at him, he nodded slightly, visibly trying to keep his eyes open. Louis took another step forward, he heard his own teeth chattering, his breath trembling and jerking, his nose running, he wiped his face with his sleeve. A state in which he had not been for a long time. He did not often leave his palace, not for a long time at least, and he did not spend nights outside. He was not used to walking through the woods, in the middle of winter, wet and sticky, tired. He did not feel well, every breath ached in his chest, and every step seemed heavier than the last. He clenched his teeth, patted Marius on the neck.

"Come on ... you almost made it..."

He neighed softly, and Louis grabbed the reins with a trembling hand and led him on. But he let his head hang, grew slower and stopped. There were only a few meters to the palace and he already saw his employees coming in his direction. He turned to his brother, laid his hand on his knee and looked up at him.

"Philippe... Get off..."

His voice also trembled, he reached for his hand, which was a lot warmer than his own, and helped him to descend. As soon as his feet touched the ground, his strength left him, and he collapsed. Louis wrapped his arms around him, but felt his knees give in, sank to the ground, exhausted. He felt his brother tremble, trying to get up, but he held him firmly in his lap.

"Stay..."

He heard footsteps behind him, noticed his horse collapsing as well, and closed his eyes. He could feel Philippes chest rise and fall under his hand, tried to breathe evenly and calmly, and to get his violent trembling under control. Then he heard voices, steps that grew louder, and a hand that lay on his shoulder.

"Your Majesty, are you alright?"  
He recognized the voice of his faithful friend Bontemps, managed to nod.

"A doctor for my brother ... and the horse."

Louis opened his eyes, saw him nodding, instructing a servant to get his doctor. Then he kneeled down, touched his hand. 

"What happened? You're freezing.  
We were deeply worried about you."

Not really able to answer, he merely shook his head, grabbed the hand that he held out to him. 

"Your Majesty?

He wrapped a blanket around him, gratefully Louis pulled it closer, draped another carefully over his brothers shoulders.

"Thank you...", he murmured, looked up as footstep sounded again behind them, Louis turned around. He saw his physician or rather, his female doctor kneel in front of him, a concerned look in her eyes. 

"What happened? Are you hurt, Your Majesty?"

He shook his head again. 

"My brother. He fell off his horse." 

She nodded slightly, but grabbed his hands and looked at them, then up in his face. He looked back in her blue eyes, said nothing. She should take care of his brother, not him, he was fine... He pushed her hands away.

"My brother. Not me."

"Forgive me, but you are clearly undercooled, you have to warm up as soon as possible."

"Take care of him first, he is hurt. That is an order." 

Black dots danced before his eyes, he blinked them away, watched gladly as she hesitantly turned to his brother.  
As long as he got well again...

"Your Majesty, let me accompany you inside..."

Bontemps visibly tried to help him, he leaned on him, breathed in deeply. He still felt so cold, even if the blanket was warming him up.

"Monsieur?", said Claudine, Louis held his gaze lowered as Bontemps turned to her.

"Take him into the warmth and make sure that he moves as little as possible."

Louis saw him nod, putting his arm around him and escorting him towards the castle, he tried to turn around.

"Wait...", he said, closing his eyes again, but the dizziness remained.

"My brother... Philippe..."

Bontemps said something, but suddenly everything went numb, the black dots were getting more, nausea rose in him. He felt his knees give way, then everything turned black.  
____

When he opened his eyes again, he laid in his bed, covered with several blankets, Bontemps sat beside him at the bed. He was no longer cold, but everything hurt. His throat felt dry, his head ached, and his limbs felt heavy.

"Your Majesty?"

Slowly he turned his head in the direction of his friend, he frowned anxiously, leaned forward.

"How are you?"

"Better. Where is my brother?"

"He's resting, Masson is with him."

He nodded slightly, let out a low sigh. Good.

"And my horse?"

Bontemps glanced at him for a moment, shaking his head in confusion.

"I do not know, forgive me, Your Majesty."

He waved his hand, looked toward the window. It was snowing outside. He straightened a bit, ignoring Bontemps' helping hand.

"Is Philippe well?"

"Your brother is doing well according to the circumstances, yes."

According to the circumstances? What was that supposed to mean? Would he get well again? Surely, he had full confidence in his doctor. Had he broken something? And his horse? A piercing pain in his head made him stop, he breathed deeply. If he thought too much, it only got worse.

He sank back into the pillows, closed his eyes. He needed to rest.

There was a knock at the door, Bontemps sighed, and Louis nodded lightly.

"Come in."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, your brother is asking for you."

He immediately got up, which led to the black dots returning, but he could shake them off this time. Bontemps put his hand on his shoulder, shook his head.

"You must stay in bed." 

"I must go to my brother."

"Your Majesty, she- your doctor has expressly forbidden-"

Louis raised his hand, and he fell silent, rose from the bed, and noticed that he was wearing new, dry trousers and a shirt. The dizziness had not yet completely disappeared, but he felt a little better already. And when his brother asked for him... If Louis did not feel well and was sick, he wanted to have Philippe by his side, but the younger one always asked for his wife or his lover. But now...  
He could not ignore of the feeling that since the accident, since what happened, something had changed between them.

He gestured to Bontemps to come along, his servant and friend following him reluctantly. Trying to ignore the dizziness, he walked down the hall toward his bedroom. From afar he already heard voices, it seemed to be the Chevalier, he stood at the door and argued with one of the guards. Louis rolled his eyes. 

"... has expressly commanded only to let in his brother and the doctor, Monsieur."

"But I am his friend, I want to know how he is!"

"Forgive me, Monsieur." He fell silent and bowed slightly, Chevalier turned around. Louis glanced at him, waited until he had bowed too, before walking past him into the bedroom. He could feel his crushing look as he stepped through the door and closed it behind him. He suppressed a smile. If his brother wanted to see him, instead of him. A pity. 

Philippe laid in his bed, smiling at him tiredly as he entered. Claudine stood next to him at the window, apparently packing up her medication, Bontemps stayed at the door. He stepped to the bed and sat down on it, looking at him anxiously.

"How are you?"

"Better ... I'll be fine. And you?  
You have fainted I've been told."

He nodded slowly, could not really remember. Claudine cleared her throat softly, Philippe looked at her as Louis continued to eye him. He looked tired, exhausted but at least not as pale as before. 

"This can happen when the body temperature drops..."

He nodded slightly, then his eyes met his.

"Are you feeling better?"

"A little."

"Good... It is my fault, after all."

Louis shook his head instantly, he didn't want to hear this. He had given him his clothes and his horse voluntarily after all. 

"No. The most important thing is that you get well again-"

"The most important thing is that the king-"

"I do not care about the king."

Philippe raised his eyebrows and smiled surprised, Louis sighed quietly. He had to understand that he only wanted his best, that he was not only the king, but first of all his brother.  
Even if it was sometimes more than difficult to be that.

"Listen. I know I'm the king, but more importantly, I am your brother, and I've always been that and I always will be."

The younger one lowered his gaze and bit his lip, nodding slightly.

"I know..."

"Well, I ..." He breathed deeply.

"I love you, you know?"

"Yes..."

Louis hesitated for a moment, but knew he should not wait for anything.  
Nevertheless, he felt somehow... empty.  
He looked at Philippe, who was still looking at the bedspreads, then turned away.

"Get well soon."

"Louis-"

He turned around, only to find himself in his embrace shortly after. Surprised, he supported himself in the pillow, before he sighed with relief, buried his head in his shoulder.

"I thank you ...", he whispered in his ear, pressed him tightly before he flinched and Louis released him.

"Ow..."

Louis smiled lightly, looking at him sympathetically. "Broken?"

He and Claudine nodded at the same time, he rose from the bed and looked back and forth between them.

"How long until it's healed?"

"About six weeks, Majesty, if all goes well," she replied, he nodded. It would surely. He looked at his brother, who looked somewhat relieved. Smiled.

"Oh, before I forget: Your lover wants to see you."

His smile widened, he shook his head slightly.

"Then send him to me."

Louis nodded again, stepped to the door.

"With pleasure. I'll see you at dinner."

"If I can make it."

He gave him a smile and left his room, telling Bontemps to follow him. Chevalier was still standing at the door, he held it open.

"Go on." 

He gestured a bow, waited until the blonde had entered and then turned to walk down the hall.

"Please, lie down now, Your Majesty," urged Bontemps, he sighed softly, then nodded. It was probably for the best. He did not want to worry them anymore and the people should not necessarily realize that something was wrong.

"Fine."

A little reluctantly, he followed him to his bedroom, then went back to his bed and closed his eyes. His thoughts went back to his brother, he smiled tiredly. He seemed to understand that he was important to him, that he meant something to him. And he swore, from now on, it would never be the same as before.


End file.
